Always Our Likely Finale
by xFeedMePoisonedCandyx
Summary: Only one set of footprints will mark the snow once our swords are sheathed. How did it come to this... The final battle between the sisters of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, O-ren Ishii and Beatrix Kiddo. One-shot.


**Title :** Always Our Likely Finale

**Author:** xFeedMePoisonedCandyx

**Summary:**_ 'Only one set of footprints will disturb the snow once the swords are sheathed. How did it come to this, Beatrix?' The final battle between the sisters of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, O-ren Ishii and Beatrix Kiddo._

**A.N:** the first thing I've ever written that was not anime-based, drama based, and non-humour-based. Any feedback on how this is would be very much appreciated, so I can figure out what to do next. Thanks!

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**Always Our Likely Finale**

_Don't you dare die, Beatrix Kiddo. _

I'm waiting for you. I've waited for you for four years.

This is a beautiful night to die. The sky is clear and black; I see stars, even though we stand in the centre of Tokyo. Stars are a rare sight. It is fitting. It only adds to the overall perfection of the scene.

One of us is destined to die here. How can there be any other outcome? Ultimately, that is what will happen. My footsteps mar the whiteness of the snow; soon yours will join them. But there will only be one set leading away from this place. We both know it; you and I.

It's been four years. I wonder if you remember us. Not Cottonmouth and Black Mamba, but _us_: O-ren and Beatrix. It was always us. Even when you loved Bill, we loved each other more. It was always the case. We clung to one another, as we once clung to the families that Fate and Death and all those other monstrous fuckers stole from us. The sisters of the Deadly Vipers; O-ren Ishii and Beatrix Kiddo. And we are sisters. We share the same blood. Not the blood that runs through our veins, but the blood that we spilt. This is our true life-force; this is the blood of killers.

_This is us._

But we can't let that hold us back now. It's a past life.

Four years since we stood together. And here you are.

The garden is beautiful, I remark.

'As far as last looks go, you could do a lot worse.'

I mean it, Bea. This is a beautiful night to die. I wouldn't have it any other way. You deserve this.

We speak in Japanese. This is how it should be done; we both know it without having to voice it, in either English or Japanese. It's the language of warriors. We are warriors.

I bow. I want to show you how a true samurai fights – with honour. You think I have none. I will prove you wrong.

Four years ago I had no honour. I struck you down as I would have done any other, any son of a bitch who stood in my way. It didn't seem so important then; honour. Assassins do not have honour – it holds us back. Constricts us. It means we have to have a reason behind what we do. That's why I stopped. I am an assassin no more.

I've done that for you, Beatrix. I gave up my old life and began again so that when you came to meet me, as I always knew you would, we could stand face to face as warriors. _Samurai_. Not as a dishonourable Viper and a vengeful Bride.

I'm ready to face you. You intend to kill me, as I do you. I have no choice. I do not desire to do it, but I will. I will feel no remorse, just as you will not if it is your footprints that mark the snow once the swords are sheathed.

Our swords clash. This is the first time in four years that I have heard this sound – Beatrix vs. O-ren. It makes my heart sing, sister. It is beautiful.

The white blanket we tread upon makes a whisper of the violence. It's a fantasy: the one I hoped that the two of us would end our days in. Side by side. Or face to face. Either way does not matter. I see no better way to exit this life.

You slip. I cut.

Crimson and white. You are slipping, Beatrix. I mock you, as I would always have done. _Silly girl_, I say.

'You may not be able to fight like a samurai,' I whisper, 'but you can at least die like a samurai.'

I'm lying. You fight as well as a samurai. You fight as well as me. That's what makes this so glorious.

We fight equally, but your sword is better. I have no shame. It's a Hanzo and it is an honour in itself to be cut by a Hanzo: you are a lucky girl, Beatrix Kiddo.

This time I slip, you cut.

White, red. I bleed just as you did. We are still the same.

We stand there, watching each other. How did it come to this, Beatrix? Should I have defied Bill four years ago, refused to turn that gun on you? Would everything have turned out differently?

I don't need to ask. I know it would. We would still be O-ren and Beatrix, not what we are now.

O-ren.

And Beatrix.

I'm sorry.

'For ridiculing you earlier,' I tell you, 'I apologise.'

I hope you understand what I mean. I tell you with my eyes: I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry I did not defend you, as I told myself I should. As I still believe that you would have done for me.

_Forgive me_, I beg you silently.

'Accepted,' is all you say. But it is enough. You know what I mean. How could you not? You know me.

This is our last confrontation. We move quietly, deadly as we always were. I sense you coming before you move, and I know the fight is yours.

Well done Beatrix. You deserve this fight.

I'm proud of you. Yours will be the footsteps that disturb the snow as you walk away from this place.

The House of Blue Leaves, Tokyo, Japan. It's a fitting place to die. I don't deserve it. I would have had you end your days in a godforsaken backwater town, somewhere out in Nowheresville, U.S.A.

I regret that. You deserved better. And you will get it. This time – our last time – it is you who walks away victorious. And I will not come back for revenge. You have done your job too well. This truly is our last fight.

Your footsteps make little noise on the snow as you walk away. You will not stay to watch me die. I didn't stay to watch you either. I turned away from your bloodied image and into another life. Now it is your turn.

Leave, and do not come back.

Go. This is the way it must always be. One of dies at the other's hands. O-ren Ishii and Beatrix Kiddo: this is always our likely finale.

This is how it always ends.

_-owari-_

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End file.
